At night i panic

I listened to Shane Koyczan for hours last night.

You all need to listen to him.

His words are like insides spilling out.

At the end of it you wonder, how you ever loved so mildly.

And- you wish- you could capture the stories of your life, so beautifully - and do them justice. Pay tribute to every moment that made you. That stays with you.

In his words, are the way i wish i lived, the way i wish i could live.

So in the darkness, i panic that the loves of my life- would never know the full extent of how i loved them. I'm caught up in these days and things that don't matter, and why am i not using my words better.

If i die tomorrow, what would i leave them.

Dear Zane,

If i die tomorrow, or suddenly from whatever. I need you to know... that the things i said to my friends and family about you - most of them... they aren't true.

Haha, i'm hard on you.

I'm hard on you because i want you to see, that you're better than the 'you' you've chosen to be.

That's just rhymes coz it gets in my head.

Haha, but really- i don't know when i became to critical. I tell you i don't want to be this way and yet i keep falling back into it. 

I remember- the night we first talked on the phone. How your voice always seemed younger than you looked. How you asked me funny questions - like where i wanted to be married, how many kids i would have.

I remember the car, windows fogged up on that cold winters night- La Perouse. The brown blanket. How many stories you seemed to have. When you accidently touched my boob.

I remember when i'd take photos of you while you were sleeping. How i'd watch you at your computer. How i'm sure i said 'I love you' first. And i laughed because your face looks different when i'm looking down at you.

I remember meeting your mum for the first time. Thinking, this is how family feels. I remember the night we lay in Stormys room, and i told you i was pregnant. 

No, i didn't really want to have a baby with you. Not really.

I just wanted to be with you for a while longer.

I didn't really know. 

I remember - you telling me, on the crowded dancefloor, drunken haze- that you would do anything for me.

How i believed you. 

I remember seeing you through this tired daze and confusion- sitting on a chair, looking terrified - holding her as people kept coming into the room. Where's all the blood coming from? 

I remember my Aunt telling me how you'd cried and cried and thought you'd killed me. 

Vinnie gave our daughter her first bottle.

You were asleep. Drained and afraid.

The times you'd talk about that day afterwards, how you had nightmares. How you looked kinda scared when the second test came back positive.

I don't know how many millions of hours have passed in between.

I tell people in the most unromantic ways, our lives. Pregnancies and weddings and things that went one to another, processes and not stories.

I love stories and yet, ours is one i never tell very well.

I tell the kids 'Graaaahhh YOUR DAD! He drives me crazy.'

And they nod in agreement and say 'Dad yells at us!'

It's true, you yell- but i forget to tell them - you changed nappies, bathed, fed, rocked, held, changed, cleaned vomit, took temperatures, walked and talked and read to them all.

You tell their stories to friends whose eyes glaze over. Take out your phone and show people photographs. 

I forget to tell them, that their dad- well he's not so bad as far as dads go.

And he's always believed in me. I should tell our daughter, that if she finds a partner like you- she'd be lucky.

Because he'll tell her- that there's nothing she couldn't do.

That everything she does is awesome.

That she just needs to see it too.

I tell you- that i know you can do better than this. Sometimes that's true.

Sometimes though, most times maybe- it's just me. I don't love as nicely as you.

And if i die tomorrow, i hope you know- that i loved you. That it's always been a 'meant to be', that you and i... we are some kind of beautiful crazy design. Just my style, messy and funny and crazy and cool.

I hope you know, they're beautiful.

The things we made together. More than my heart, than  love and romance, dreams and cliches.

I trust you with Them.

The things We made together, the things that are made of Us.

The most beautiful stories i've ever known.

We write them together.

And i should tell you, Thank you.

From the very center of me. Thank you.